No sleep for me..

Friday, 1st November 2019

I took that photo on Saturday actually: in among the hordes of fat Sydney weekenders all waddling into town for this fuckin’ idiotic annual ‘Octoberfest’ in their summer moomoos and ridiculous designer sunglasses, that bird just laid dead on the footpath and it was still more attractive than the people stepping around it.

Like most events in Katoomba, Oktoberfest is designed to lighten people of their money and with no other legitimate historical context at all: chicks dress in slutty German beermaid costumes and people drink too much beer – that’s it.

Like the way the Winter Magic ‘festival’ is really just any idiot with a marquee setting up stalls right up and down the main street to sell shit nobody needs: there’s absolutely no history to it. Katoomba has never had any kind of harvest festival or May day celebrations – greedy arseholes just invented the event to make money.

Whew, see I’m already tired and cranky and it’s only 3:34 AM ๐Ÿค”

Bet I can’t even have a piss when I get off at Blaxland because the godamn station toilets will be closed.

Saturday, 2nd November 2019

Right, it’s been a bit of a week you might say and though I’m inclined to give an expansive description of how the butchers opposite Coles came to be boarded-up because I’ve just spent half an hour milking a very bored security staff-member for information so it’s all fresh in my mind, I’ll just truncate down to an excerpt.

What happens when a shopkeeper becomes inappropriately nasty and abusive towards their landlord.

Though I’ve always bought my meat from supermarkets anyway, I was surprised this morning to arrive at the shopping centre and see the butcher who’s had a shop in the complex for at least the 6 years or so I’ve lived in the mountains suddenly and completely boarded-up and shut.

A sign taped to the MDF sheeting informed shoppers that any enquiries should be directed at center management, but the security dood standing out front was more than happy to get me caught-up on what happened and in a nutshell, the butcher’s have had a bit of a grudge that’s been going on for years with Coles due to the megalithic supermarket chain obviously selling meat much cheaper: Woman #7 tells me she bought lamb chops for around $35/kilo just a week ago that would’ve cost her $50/kilo at the ‘actual’ butcher just twenty meters away, so it’s not hard to understand why most people rather buy from Coles, right?

Personally, I’ve never understood why people would want to remain bound by loyalty to any business that charges more for the same product and though it sucks for small business that they cannot compete with huge supermarket chains I just don’t give a shit: as a customer, all I care about is getting the best deal and paying more just to support local business is a bad deal for me.

Anyway, with all the loyal regular customers the butchers shop is doing just fine far as sales go but the owner has maintained such animosity towards Coles that a few days ago the owner of the butcher’s shop lost his shit and went over to throw a tantrum at the manager of the supermarket manager – who happens to not only the butcher’s competition but their landlord.

Coles built Katoomba Shopping Village and they own it, so their response to his threats was to tell him rent is now doubled.

The owner of the butcher’s response was to get very angry and tell Coles to fuck off, to which Coles calmly replied that they’ve got until Sunday – tomorrow – to have his little butchers shop packed-up and gone ๐Ÿ™‚

Stupid move really – being abusive towards a supermarket giant who is also your landlord.

Coles even went so far as to ban him from doing business in the shopping centre until he goes and have assigned a security guy who’s sole job is to stand out front of the butcher’s store and make sure they do not continue trade while they’re packing-up to leave.

Talk about slamming the small business with full force right? ๐Ÿ™‚

That socially-programmed little bit of me quietly mumbles about how mean the giants are squeezing the poor ‘little guys’ and bullying local businesses around, but really that’s just social conscience group-think leaking into my viewpoint: there’s plenty of meat in town at better prices for everyone, so who gives a rats about greedy local businesses throwing tantrums because of their own inflated pricing.

With over 1,000,000 town visitors a year and only 7,600 locals in Katoomba there’s enough tourists throwing money around like confetti that the few shops make far more of their money from those tourists than we locals.

Ultimately too, from everything I’ve heard the owner of that Butchers shop is a loud mouthed, abrasive arsehole who’s been gnawing at Coles ankles like an irritating small dog for, forever, so he’s dug his own grave opposed to being bullied or shut-down unfairly by any competition.

So that’s why the Butcher’s has closed their storefront at Katoomba Shopping Village.

Here’s something else – from today’s garden at Woman #7’s: a kind’ve porcupine topiary I cut out of a shrub with a whip-snipper while mowing/snipping her yard..

The new/old job situation

So far I’ve worked just three 4-hour shifts and have $300+ coming to me for them so the rate of pay is very nice and though the standard casual rate with the company is just over $25/hour, the hourly rate for starting before 5:30AM is almost $30 so I’m unsure exactly how much I’m getting hence the little ‘+’ but it’s certainly enough to make me happy to be casual and not yet permanent.

There are some teething issues to update – issues that’re no longer issues thanks to that Oracle of mine pushing me to take my complaints straight to the top of the managerial ‘food-chain’ rather than fucking around debating with my immediate supervisor: I’d planned to raise said issues with an email to the Human Resources section of head office on Monday because I’d not slept yesterday and was just too tired and fuzzy to deal with it, but she demanded I do it now exhausted or not and demanded that instead of simply sending an email to HR, I contact the Service Delivery Manager – top of the pyramid of supervisors for the company, do it right then, do it with a phone call, then ring her back to update her on how it went.

I told her she was tripping, that monday would see me with a well rested brain than actually functions, that if I do it while I’m this exhausted I’ll just sound dumb as a box of hammers and that I’m not at all in the frame of mind to be talking to the apex boss for the company.

I told her all the excuses, she told me she didn’t wanna hear my dribble about not having slept, I told her nooo I’m too tired, she said ‘Do it NOW’ and I did it NOW.

Like my own private union rep, personal advisor and tigeress in a five foot frame: how can such a tiny women have so much more attitude than everyone else and why is it I wouldn’t want her any other way?

I’ve bluetoothed the keyboard and you know, now I have contact lenses again I can see even the little phone screen well enough to type with that instead of the tablet and without needing to squint and locate my face inches from the screen.

I’ve gotta go to bed early tonight, though now I think of it, setting my alarm early and actually getting up when it goes off might be more crucial than the time I fall asleep.

Gotta go to bed early, but want to edit the above work-related text and update that before I do: outside a rant or two about the old guy I cleaned the TAFE with, I never bothered to write anything about work last time I was employed – just left the site pretty much idle.

Sure I posted about Moose a bit but that got to the point I would’ve sounded like those annoying new parents who incessently dribble on and spam photos of every little second of their new baby like they’re the first people to ever reproduce a living human being and my posts about my parrot would’ve got to about that point with no posts about my life outside the bird.

So this time I wanna include it, if not simply for balance then for the fact it’ll give me something else to bitch and rant about than the woman that’s either making me drool like a lovesick puppy or swearing I’ll never talk to her again.

Right – Mondays clothes are washed and hanging to dry.

So the work teething issues I have talked around but not actually explained are three-fold: firstly, after several shifts over several weeks now I still have not recieved my employer ID card or uniformed top and though the uniform isn’t vitally important – especially given they’re hi-vis orange so ugly as shit and I’ve got much nicer looking clothes I can wear in place of theirs, the ID card is very important.

Though you’re almost never asked to identify yourself – certainly not if you’re wearing their uniform – the company has the contract to clean all government buildings throughout Sydney and it’s surrounding regions: from schools to TAFES, Sydney Trains, Centrelink offices, Medical Centres and Fire Stations, we clean all that shit and it’s a condition of employment that all cleaners to carry their card at all times while on site.

Last week doing the first 4-hour ‘training’ shift at Katoomba High School, this supervisor – Mohammad – rocks up at around 5:30AM with his ipad and does the whole sit-down induction checklist (knows how to check cords, knows not to stand in pools of water while using electrical equipment, knows not to drink chemicals and where the MSDS sheets are for each, knows which colour cloths are used to clean which areas, knows all that silly bullshit – check, check, check).

I made it faster for him by stating from the outset that I’ve worked for the company already, that I already know all that shit and so he’s just basically gone ahead and ticked all the boxes on his ipad in silence while I sat and waited for him to finish, at which point he’s handed me my ID which wasn’t mine at all but some dood called Mathews’ card.

I mean the photo was of a chubby wranga with pasty-white freckled skin, so I don’t know why he even asked if that was me but I cleared that in the negative instantly and he’s just sorta grimaced, told me that’s the one head office gave him then handed me the ipad to sign my name at the bottom of the training form, which I did.

Nothing was mentioned about organizing the correct ID and I wasn’t bothered at the time but then when 8:00AM rolled around the other cleaners told me ‘Mohammad wants you to stay until 9:00AM, but we leave at eight – since we’re not sure what to do with you afterwards you should wait in the common room until the principal or vice-principal gets here and clears you’

“What, just wait in there doing nothing for an hour?”

‘Yeah, but only until the principal arrives, then he’ll tell you whether you can stay without the card or whatever’

“That sounds like unnecessary boredom.”

‘Yeah it is, but that’s what Mohammad wants, so we’ll see ya later’

As they were about to leave and before I had to sit around waiting in the common room for nothing, the vice principal gets there and they explain what’s going on, with me telling the VP that our supervisor didn’t bother to bring or arrange any ID for me, and that even after asking him twice for a uniformed shirt he’s just mumbled ‘Sure sure’ and done nothing about getting one from the car for me and when I added My phone is telling me it’s nine right now, you know”, the vice principal looked at his watch, looked at all us cleaners and then agreed we’ll call it nine and we all left then, at 8:00AM.

Fast foward another week and he’s asked me to go out and cover three shifts at Blaxland High, which I agreed to because even though it’s almost at hour away it’s still several hundred dollars in my pocket and if I continually refuse any work that’s further than I wanna go I’ll end up with no money from this job while I’m waiting for work that’s closer.

I’m over-explaining all this mm.. might have to just delete it and summarize because it’s getting too long-winded.

Then again, it’s a record of my supervisors’ uselessness that’s fresh in my memory and might be a useful reference in the future..

Three full shifts and Mohammad the supervisor still hasn’t so much as mentioned my employee ID card, nor uniform, and every time he’s text or rang he’s told me there’s no work whatsoever in the upper-mountains, which is where the company advertised they needed cleaners for – even now they’ve got ads on for ‘Cleaning position – Upper Blue Mountains’.

Now, everything I’ve written so far covers my own personal experiences with this immediate supervisors’ shiftiness and in a period of only the first two weeks, but what I haven’t mentioned is other cleaners experiences with him – which they’ve openly told me.

One of those things about the company I liked last time I worked with them was the automatic camaraderie amoungst cleaners: we’re all on the same level, we all have a baseline distrust and suspicion of our supervisors and although some cleaners liked this supervisor or that one better or worse they all openly bitch and complain to each other about any wrongs that might’ve been committed against them and being on the same 4:00AM starts, same pay-grade and same level we all take one anothers side anytime a supervisor fucks up and all hear each other out anytime we feel like something dodgy is going on because it’s usually happening to more than one of us.

We all exchange anecdotes and stories, gossip and accumulated knowledge of our bosses to the grapevine and I’m pretty sure the supervisors know we do.

No, no it’s getting late and I wanna go carve a bit of boat before I go to bed so I’ll leave this and start off with what the grapevine informed me of tomorrow, plus illustrate how the consultants at WISE employment are so discouraging of my chasing-up any of the issues I’ve had within these first few weeks of working with the new supervisor: discouraging to the point you’d swear there was some kind’ve conspiracy going on since they’ve repeatedly encouraged me to simply sit and wait until Mohammad decides to give me work or an id card or until Mohammad decides he’ll get around to giving the hours I’ve worked to payroll in time for the current pay cycle: ‘Passively do anything the supervisor wants Jason and don’t do anything in case it ruffles his feathers’ is what the desk-dwellers at WISE have told me I should do.

The woman who loves me was of the polar opposite opinion: ‘talk directly to someone high enough in the company to actually have some power and fuck whatever Mohammad thinks of it’

The woman who loves me is a much better power-player than the salary-fattened office hogs at WISE – whose jobs physically contribute nothing at all to the world since all they do is sit at a desk typing and talking on a phone while telling other people they need to work and doing so for a lower hourly rate than even I now get in an entry level cleaning job.

Thanks to the woman who loves me, my incompetent, lazy supervisor became my bitch within a single hour of following her advice.

The WISE employment consultants would’ve had me just sitting on my hands, biting my tongue and kissing the supervisors arse until I build a ‘personal rapport’ or earn his personal liking: instead, the Service Delivery Manager himself had Mohammad stammering apologies to me on the phone and arranging fixes for all three issues on the spot, so not only does the Service Delivery Manager know who I am, Mohammad knows I’ve got a direct line to his boss and will not hesitate to go straight over his head in future if there’s any shifty bullshit outta him.

Win-win ๐Ÿ™‚

I didn’t end-up elaborating on the whole “workers grapevine” thing, but I’ll get around to it.

Not like I wont hear plenty more stories or have a single gripe of my own ever again in the future.

Sunday, 3rd November 2019

9:37 AM

This fucking woman is a mentally ill menace to anyone wishing to just wait for a bus in peace..

Crocs and socks: waiting to snare some poor sucker and ear-rape them ๐Ÿคข๐Ÿคฎ

Yeah she’s got her back turned but trust me you’re not missing-out: when I walked over to wait for the 686 to town she was busily sloughing all her make-up all over her face, and when I say “all” I mean I think she literally had all the make-up she owned on her face as I crossed the road and walked a good ten meters from the actual bus stop and plugged my earphones in just to ensure there was no reason for her to believe I was open to conversation.

I’ve never liked make-up on women personally: if a woman is beautiful then make-up only looks ridiculous – especially close-up – while conversely if a woman isn’t attractive, no amount of make-up is ever gonna hide the fact.

Well applied eye makeup can make beautiful eyes look striking mind you, but even then if the eyes are already beautiful they really don’t need face-paint applied to them either – healthy and fit women look great everywhere without anything added and thankfully there’s a lot more women these days who know that and don’t use make-up and look much more naturally beautiful for it.

I know you’ll be thinking I’m sounding like a sexist arsehole passing judgement on women who feel the need to use visual improvements on themselves but I don’t give a shit I’m just stating the obvious.

For the years I’ve been living here she’s been out around town at random bus stops and she’s one of those local characters every town has, though “character” is reaaally stretching it given there’s very little going on in her head and the one or two conversations I made the mistake of having with her considered if her basically trying to chat me up by droning on and onnnn about the most banale shit you could imagine.

One of those people who starts with a ‘hello’ then once you acknowledge her with a reply she’ll instantly imprison you into mindless talk that only stops when you physically walk away.

It’s off to do some whip-snipping today: I’ve gotta get up at 1:00AM again tomorrow morning to allow time to caffeinate and get my arse to the station in time for the first train of the day to Blaxland.

Given I had no sleep on Thursday night, anything I can do to tire myself a bit will help me fall asleep earlier because not sleeping always sucks when you have to drag your zombie-brain around all day and cannot go to bed even though you need to.

Monday, 4th November 2019

3:03 AM

I slept! ๐Ÿฃ

I’m not sure for how long, but sometime – maybe about an hour after sunset – I stopped scratching at the grass stuck all over me and woke up with the alarm going off.


8:50 AM

Done and dusted and on a train back up the mountain. That’ll be the last shift there for now, though I’ll start hassling the supervisor tomorrow and I gotta say, that arsehole was out at the site with bells this morning to take my photo for my ID.

Still he says it’ll take a week or so for head office to print the card, but that’s alright for now: at least he’s got off his arse and come taken my pic for it.

A pic that didn’t look half as good as the last ID they gave me because of the fluorescent lights in the library where he took it – on the same iPad the supervisor always carries I might add, which means there wasn’t any reason he couldn’t have done that several weeks ago at Katoomba High during that first training shift.

Before I forget, this high school has these chilled bubblers that are just fucking awesome when you’ve been sweating like a pig for an hour or so and I don’t remember ever having refrigerated drinking fountains at any school I went to as a kid..

Ice-cold water right from the tap.

I spent a good two minutes at a time just sucking that icy goodness in me anytime I’d walk past that set of bubblers – brilliant.

Thursday and Friday I got a lift back to Springwood station with the head cleaner but today he was going to Penrith after work so I had to walk to Blaxland station and though it’s an easy walk given how flat the topography is there, I had to practically power-walk two kilometers to save myself the half hour wait until the next train up the mountain.

I did heave the option to get a lift back to Blaxland station with one the other cleaners – a guy called Andrew who’s filthy, very overweight, has terrible looking yellow-tinged skin, mumbles to the point of incoherence and seems to never wash his work clothes at all – but I told head-cleaner-guy I’d maybe pass on that, “Andrew’s just given me a twenty minute explanation of all his woes and troubles with Sandra – I don’t wanna hear it all again in his car driving back.”

The head cleaner chuckled then took it upon himself to pull out his phone and find train departure times from Blaxland to Katoomba for me while I chowed-down on a Turkish Delight chocolate one of the teachers had given us as she walked past and though I told him it wasn’t necessary to check since “If I’m walking there anyway I’ll be taking whichever train comes next”, I suppose it was nice of him to check the timetable and him messing around with his phone gave me a minute or two to eat the chocolate bar before I left so that’s fine.

So Sandra is the one I’ve been filling-in for the past few days, and though she was back today they still wanted me in there to catch-up on what was missed Friday since they were two short, so there was what, five of us there this morning – the number of cleaners there should always be for a site the size of a high-school: I did the four-level library, one of the computer rooms and a half dozen classrooms and yeah whatever I finished everything with twenty minutes leftover so that was fine.

But the reason Sandra was away the last few days is because of Andrew – who for some reason felt compelled to spew all the beans to me about the ‘incident’ that occurred between him and Sandra last week.

The head cleaner had told me already that she’d taken a pretty bad fall last week and that she had a problem with one of the other cleaners and as far as Andrew himself told it, he’s walked straight through a doorway at the same time Sandra was coming out, but Sandra is tiny and Andrew is like fuckin’ John Candy so they’ve run into one another – she got knocked clean off her feet and has injuries as a result of this collision, which is why she’s been off work, though there’s clearly more to it – I don’t get the impression she thought it was an accident.

Andrew then leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper to warn me not to trust Sandra: ‘She’ll be all nice and sweet and lovey-dovey to your face, but soon as you turn your back..’

He’s then started making slow stabbing motions and noises to match each time the imaginary knife moves down: *squeak* *squeak* *squeak*

‘Stab ya in the back.’


‘Stab ya soon as look at ya she will.’

“Right. You seen our head cleaner around?”

‘And she’ll keep doin’ it again and again’, *squeak* *squeak* *squeak*

“Well, she..”

‘I’m just givin’ ya a heads up dood look out for her.’

“She won’t be here when I am anyway – I’m filling-in for her.”

‘I’m just saying – she seems nice, but you can’t trust her.’

“Sure okay, I’ll try not to walk into her. I gotta find our boss..”

‘Yeah spose I’d better go wipe some tables, though it’s probably my least favourite job.’

He’s then diverted to telling me how much he dislikes wiping tables and desks, and mind you at this point I’ve already wiped-down every desk in the library, computer room and seven classrooms and finished all my allocated work for the morning and am looking for the head cleaner to see if he’s got anything else needs doing and this dood would’ve probably finished everything he had to do too if he wasn’t so fat and unhealthy.

I don’t know why random people do this: like they’ve got some natural urge to tell me things I never asked about, but all you’ve gotta do is keep maintaining the position that you’re listening to what they’re saying and halfway interested and they just talk and talk and talk.

I only spoke to Sandra herself twice all morning and she seemed perfectly nice to me – five feet nothing, petite, very focused on her work, Russian accent, super polite: once when I first got there and the head cleaner introduced her to the guy who’s been covering her at which point she thanked me for filling-in, and a second time – about twenty minutes before it was time to go at about 7:40 AM when she again thanked me ‘so much’ for doing her work while she was away.

“No need, I’m getting paid for it” was my answer, which I recycled to the head cleaner when he also thanked me for showing up and helping out – since they’re always understaffed at that school it appears.

So as for Sandra being a backstabbing bitch, I’ve got this fat dood who looks like quite the rapey type telling me this Sandra is ‘lovey-dovey’ to his face then stabs him in the back and that neither the head cleaner or Sandra or Mohammad the supervisor will tell him what he’s ‘meant to have done’, but I got the impression he either knocked her down deliberately or maybe there was some kind of groping went with this ‘accidental’ collision because it sure sounds like fat Andrew has quite the thing far as Sandra goes, considering that’s the only thing he talked about the one time he stopped to talk to me alone – Sandra, Sandra, Sandra.


Tuesday, 5th November 2019

5:37 AM I woke up this morning, having fallen asleep roughly twelve hours prior so there clearly was a few extra hours needed catching-up on.

10:07 AM

I’m at WISE employment because I want to go to Woolies to pick whatever food I want for dinner and need time to think about it so I frequently drop in when I’ve shopping to do, to dump my backpack consider what food to buy hoping to avoid walking around the supermarket like a fool with no idea what I want, but also because I don’t need them for anything so don’t mind dropping in today: my batteries got charged at the womans’ place on the weekend so they’re good for the rest of the week and it’s payday so I don’t need anything here at all.

To my surprise, there’s none of the regulars: they’ve been replaced by some fill-in chick and a fill-in dood – the former of which offered me a coffee as soon as I asked “Who are you two?”, so I didn’t even have to go make my own. Apparently Anne and the others are at some kind of training shit so that’s good – saves me arguing with dickhead about everything.

I’ve gotta text that supervisor actually, hassle him about shifts and hours: I’ve decided I’ll just keep harassing the motherfuck with a text every day or two until he gets sick of it and gives me more work.

“Got any shifts coming-up for me yet?”

I’ll just keep sending one every two or three days from this point on and hopefully he’ll get fed-up hearing me asking enough to roll ’em out.

I was thinking matter of fact, about the as yet unfinished update from yesterday and it there’s any benefit to being casual outside the much higher hourly rate, it’s the fact I’m filling-in for random cleaners at random sites which means there will actually be things to write about: working permanent at the same static site gives you a reliable income and set routine you can settle into but there’s never anything goes on worth mentioning because you’re with the same workmate(s) in the same place doing the same thing at the same time – every day of the week.

Working casual shifts is like touring all the sites and with that comes the interactions with different people.

Still reliable income is good, though once you go permanent you don’t get to go back to casual, your hourly rate drops to a depressing $18/hour and you very quickly start feeling like a prisoner to your work routine.

Gotta go do that shopping anyhow.

Maybe I’ll go in to the nursery tomorrow – it’ll either give something to do for the day or come the shits all day mm: it’s a real flip of the coin with volunteering at the wildplant nursery – either I’m having a reasonably good time and don’t mind that I’m spending time there for nothing or I’m not having fun which constantly reminds me I’m getting nothing outta being there, and the only influencing factor is the people present and the given energy of the group on any given day.

Gotta take out my contacts so I can carve.

Thursday, 7th November 2019

That project we talked about – that’s just the ticket you know โฃ

The site went down last night because of the new cpanel version not being compatible with MySQL – which didn’t automatically reboot itself.

Sorry to any Lurkers who didn’t get to read my dribble for the day – it’s fixed now and I’ve backed-up the entire site.

I’ve also checked the visitor stats and found that I get many more visitors from North America than Australia, which is strange really.

~10:00 AM

I finally went and bought a pack of these yesterday: first time I’ve bought actual razors in over a year..

It wouldn’t be photo-worthy but for the fact I never figured I’d buy razors again, since buying that electric beard trimmer but the beard trimmer requires charging at a time when I’ve already got enough things to charge with my battery packs and with summer here the days are growing hot enough that I don’t want even stubble on my face – which the trimmer always leaves behind.

I didn’t end-up going to the nursery yesterday, but amused myself elsewhere and don’t know whether to go in today or just go shopping today then go in the nursery tomorrow mm.

Tomorrow actually: I’m running low on clean clothes so I’ll go into town then wash clothes this afternoon so they’re ready for the next few days.

Super exciting shit ๐Ÿ™‚

7:46 PM

Dinner with her tonight.

For years, the woman who loves me went completely vegetarian and I honestly can’t tell you how depressing the thought was, of never even having the possibility of a Sunday roast with her again because she’s such a good cook yeah.

Don’t get me wrong her vegetarian meals are just as good as all her culinary morsels: whether it’s the fresh baked cakes and biscuits or meals the only food I’ve ever disliked that she created were the lentil dishes because I just don’t like lentils because they’re dry and pasty so anything with them in it is ruined by the lentils themselves.

Wagu beef sausages with salad and separate rolls for both ๐Ÿ™‚

Then as recently as just a few weeks ago she decided to just return to a carnivorous diet and we’ve had several good, delicious ‘comfort’ meals with meat back in them since and tonight it was gourmet sausages with salad and fresh rolls, though by ‘gourmet’ I don’t mean trendy-wanker sausages with stupid flavours like Guinness and rosemary: just plain meat sausages but expensive ones with Wagu beef and they tasted noticeably higher quality than the standard jumbo BBQ packs, with more meat, less filler and less greasiness they were lovely.

I want to write a slicker, more linguistically polished appraisal of tonight’s dinner but I was up at 6:00 AM and I’m starting to grow tired so that’ll have to suffice until I edit tomorrow, but I wanted to write-up dinner first because – like anything else I do with her – that is the highlight of the day.

Earlier, I went shopping and bought a three-pack of those stick-on LED cupboard lights because they came with a set of batteries ready to go for just $10 and although they are cheap shit, that’s really all I need to spread some function lighting around – if they only had solar panels and rechargeable internal batteries they’d be perfect for lighting the flat..

Stick one under the top cupboard in the kitchen over where I make coffee, one in the loungeroom and one in the bathroom and I’ve got light without needing to rely on my head torch in all three areas I use the most ๐Ÿ˜Š

Where it all began..

Four and a half years ago on a wooden bench just big enough for the two of us to sit quietly alone; side by side; nervously touching; natural back and forth conversation; vividly aware of the others presence; disarming eye contact with beautiful ice-blue eyes I just have to kiss.

Still like that after all this time and I’ve been helplessly in-love with her ever sinceโฃ

Her photo, not mine.

There – I mentioned you.

Friday, 8th November 2019

I’m at the nursery, but noone else much seems to be: two regulars and two unknowns..

1:00 PM

Just as well I came in to take the conversation to new and inappropriate lows and freshen the dynamic – these poor people would’ve been bored shitless if I’d opted to stay home today instead.

I mean Carole’s here as the ‘official’ manager for the day, but if we’re honest we all know she has very limited appeal and cannot talk to the same spectrum of personality types that I can, though she’s the only one knows all the prices do what she lacks in presence she, well she can take money and talk to other plant nerds.

Thank god for me.

3:18 PM

There were have it – I’ve given something back with almost a full day of almost working ๐Ÿ™‚

Even helped some tourists know this is where the bus leaves.

And another tourist couple asking me questions geez what am I a tourist information centre – it’s just all take take take with those people ๐Ÿ˜

Get this shit.

As I’m standing here writing the previous paragraph, the husband of the first tourist couple goes over to the toilets and leaves his 60-odd year-old wife at the bus stop a few meters away from me *…

Hang on I’m home and about to have buttery toast dunked in hot, sweet milky tea – like biscuits, toast is amazing dunked but the the tea must be sweetened and the butter must be real fully salted butter.

I’ve heard people ‘Eww’ this idea of dunking toast in tea but I’ll guarantee they’ve never tried it: trick is you’ve gotta just dunk the buttery toast quickly and eat it immediately and it has to be well slathered-up with melted butter – not just lightly spread.

Yeah that’s excellent.

One of those comfort foods from childhood I’d probably never thought to try if my grandmother didn’t dunk her heavily buttered toast like she did ๐Ÿ˜Ž

Saturday, 9th November 2019

How fortuitous: I’ll need to suck more blood out the cut to refresh the wound in about an hour or so when I’ve shaped this but it’s a simple, small heart that won’t take long to carve at all.

The boat though, is well drenched and won’t need any additional blood until I’ve finished the inside lines on the left side though I’ll go buy some 1mL junkie needles to withdraw the blood directly from my vein to fill those grooves.

Tuesday, 12th November 2019

I haven’t updated the last few days because I’ve been at her place half the time acting as her personal lawnmower man: mowing, snipping, clearing plants and vines that’ve taken over the yard and all that sorta shit.

Honestly my lower back is a bit sore, but it’ll sort itself out and I’d rather take care of the lawn: it’s one less reasonably sized job she doesn’t have to do, and though I’m technically employed again I’m still under-employed so it’s not as though I don’t have time to go over and do it.

Even if and when the work snowballs into flat-out it’s still only two days a fortnight probably – to keep the bulk of the yard under control.

Like I told her I like being able to serve her and you can google any standard virgo profile: we’re more than happy in a position of support and don’t feel the need to show-pony center stage โฃ

Servitude suits me fine, long as it’s acknowledged as a choice to be in service of you and not construed as my being some shrinking violet because I lack the personality for anything else โฃ

Still, I’ve just got back after hours of snipping and raking and it was hot today, so I’ll fall asleep soon and figured I’d update that before I do ๐Ÿ˜ด

Wednesday, 13th November 2019

It’s payday today and my shit-for-brains supervisor didn’t mess up this time: with almost $700 for just two 8-hour days split shifts I would happily stay casual forever if the work was regular, but it isn’t.

Christmas is coming up of course, so there’ll be fill-in work for those on holidays but until then I’ve just gotta hassle the supervisor for more hours.

Those early 4:00 AM shifts pay $30/hour so ideally I’ll take the inconvenience of that over the afternoon shifts given the choice.

Had I done two 8-hour split shifts both weeks I’d have a $1,400 paycheck this week for less than a full 40-hour weeks worth of work.

10:18 AM

WISE Employment this morning while my phone charges and since I’ve a bank full of money I’m in the mood to debate with whoever wants to debate because I don’t need to give a shit, well I won’t care once my phone’s charged.

My back’s feeling better, incidentally.

See if I can find a stock windows photo I haven’t already posted for my photo of the day. No never mind; I’ll just move yesterdays rose.

Saw Mandy up the street, who gave me a spiky ‘Good morning Jason, with the emphasis on Jason like she sort of spat it out, then Ahlei a moment ago who saw me but given she’s snubbed me a few other times I ignored her, though saw her and she’s one of only two or three people at that church I’ve any respect for at all: likely because she’s the only actual employee on the payroll there besides Rosa herself.

The flip-side of sliding people you once were close to in the bin once you’re no longer at a particular place, but what can you do?

Even with Old Brian and whats-his-name telling me I should go back there that whole church thing was a distinct period of time: I fully dived into it all while I was homeless, but have no desire to go hang around a food bank that attracts scabs now I’m no longer homeless myself, and much like these urchins you see around town just sitting on their arses all day harassing passersby for smokes or a few dollars, if any of the beggars at the church spent just an hour a day actually working they wouldn’t need to be grovelling around trying to justify taking handouts from a charity as a way of life.

Spend two or three hours a day working and they’d have money for smokes of their own and food they bought from a supermarket fresh instead of out their dumpsters.

Not that everyone there are murlocks and junkies waiting for free shit to be given to ’em, but most of them are and none of them can get a decent job with any kind of large employers because they’d rather be chomping on crack all week long and don’t have the strength of character to detox themselves in order to get a job so they choose to waste their lives hanging around a food bank like beggars pretending they’re at the church helping when most are like grown children: stepping on each others heads to try and scab more for themselves and waiting for mother Rosa to give them first pick at food that’s mostly other peoples garbage.

Maggots, writhing around vying for top spot on a garbage-heap of decaying food other people have already thrown in the bin.

Not only that, if they stopped hanging around other junkie losers and detoxed long enough to pass a drug test, they could pretty much return to taking drugs once they’d got the job as long as the job they went for wasn’t as a bus driver or with a highly safety conscious employer like Sydney Trains, who take random drug testing seriously: employers offering low-responsibility positions don’t waste the money performing sweeping drug tests randomly on their employees because it’s too expensive.

Not that I give a fuck: I’m not the one has to pretend to be friends with the society’s dregs just to continue having a place to score crystallized drugs that make me look like a walking corpse and inflate a sad excuse for a personality like a baloon full of air – I am drug-free outside of caffeine and nicotine and though I miss going home and smoking cones, I don’t miss the lack of energy, the random paranoia, the mood swings or the rest of the bullshit that goes with it and the moment I’ve got the steady work hours to pay private rent again I’m outta that fuckin’ ‘roach trap and into a share or granny flat somewhere people actually have aspirations in life and away from human garbage who spend their lives making excuses for being miserable wastes of space.

Oh, I stepped on a lizards head yesterday.

It was a complete accident of course: a skink was obviously raked up with the dead leaves and trying to hide around my feet but still, well, makes me glad I’m not a garden skink.

1:18 PM

Nobody argued with me at WISE, oddly.

In fact the only thing that got discussed was how difficult it is to give-up smoking, which it is of course and I stated the issue is that while I’d like to stop smoking, I love smoking so I’m much less motivated to continue than to discontinue.

Alright so as well as the $50 I’ve added to my opal card so I’m not forced to walk for a while now, I’ve paid the site for another 4 months.

That’s it for my spending – only needed consumables from this point on with the rest, but with the next payday buying this Tuesday I’m really not feeling much of an urge to throw money away on meaningless crap: I’ll be thrilled just to make it comfortably through a full three weeks without starving or running out of tobacco or coffee or food or whatever ๐Ÿ˜Š

24ยฐC tomorrow.. right so definitely a light shirt.. I haven’t judged the weather very well the past few days: yesterday I looked out the window at the howling wind and soone the flat is cold as a crypt, figured I’d be cold in the morning so wore a thick canvas long sleeved shirt and even foolishly my duck down jacket just to be sure.

Ended-up sweating like a fucking pig all day long.

So this morning I look out the window and see it’s sunny without much wind and only wore a thin cotton shirt: nearly froze my arse off from 8:00 until 10:00 AM until it finally started warming up a bit.

I’ll get it right tomorrow!

I’ll even leave the thermal pants out and an not even bothering to wash ’em.

There was several fire service suits around town when I was out before too: I stopped and asked a group of three of them whether the situations all-good and they said it is, that they’re just waiting around on standby on the offchance something else does happen, though it’s all clear far as they’re concerned for here.

One of them also confirmed that the fire in Katoomba yesterday was ‘probably a high school student or a tourist throwing a lit cigarette in the ground’ though they don’t know for sure and it just makes me wonder why there’s fucking idiots like that around.

People so stupid they don’t even have the intelligence to know that it’s not some wall of fire that would fuck a town like Katoomba, but the embers that fly through the air and can land anywhere and randomly start spot fires anywhere in town.

Never even mind if it gets down into the valley: all the animals that would burn alive just because some fucking clown wanted a cheap thrill or whatever stupid fucking excuse they might have.

Fortunately, the fire service we’ve got in the mountains are used to shit like that and pretty good at what they do, the ones who aren’t out starting fires themselves on the sly, at least.

Roll your eyes all you like: we have always known arsonists are attracted to firefighting the way paedophiles are attracted to teaching and though it might only be one in every town, nobody knows which one it is until they’re caught – if and when they ever are.

Without sick fuckups of whatever flavour, the world would be a nicer place: can’t stand cunts who just wanna damage and destroy other people, animals or property.

Anyway, I’m on my second ‘load’ of washing – or second sinkful – then I’ll do some carving of one or more of the several trinkets I’ve got sitting unfinished.

It’s like once I’ve got the idea, I increase the complexity or turn-up the ‘resolution’ until it’s a pain in the arse to finish and then have to really make myself continue with the overly complicated thing I’ve started mmhmm.

And I’ve brought home this shit for dinner..

A TV dinner!

I don’t expect much from it, but it’s easy and I’ve got bananas and fresh bread if I’m still feeling unfed after eating said TV dinner.

I also bought new deodorant today because I’m fuckin’ sick of her telling me I stink after just an hour or two of mowing and sweating..

I have been using Old Spice stick deodorant, but as nice as it seems to have deodorant that matches the aftershave it doesn’t say it’s ‘anti-perspirant’ on the label – just deodorant – and not only doesn’t stop sweating at all it doesn’t seem to deodorize either because like I said I go from freshly washed armpits to smelling with only an hour or so of work.

To be honest though, even if I smelled lovely she’d complain about my smoking stinking so pft – most hard to please woman I’ve ever had in my life!

Better hurry up and propose to me Babe, before someone else does and since I’ve already hit my limit on proposing to you myself somebody’s gotta get the ball rolling yknowโฃ

Thursday, 14th November 2019

We’re at the WISE office today again and that’s about that really: in town to to some shopping and need to charge my phone to stop it dying on me and there’s nothing more exciting than that going on, though the new antiperspirant has my armpits still smelling clean instead of like armpit and using actual razor-blades again finally is working out nicely – less fuzzy and cooler, though my face is smooth like a frogs.

Nothing else to report really.

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